


one day i’ll be gone, one day you’ll be gone

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Sad, Sort Of, idk - Freeform, idk how to tag this, married dnp, probably sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: dan and phil have moved on





	one day i’ll be gone, one day you’ll be gone

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from an excellent song by Jason Isbell called “if we were vampires” i recommend it 
> 
> Also I’m having to post on my phone so sorry if that formatting is shit

The closet was packed to the brim. That Phil hadn’t been submerged in an avalanche of cardboard and plastic totes seemed to defy physics, but so far he’d thankfully remained unscathed. This closet, he thought, was the middle aged muggle’s equivalent of the shelves at Ollivander’s. He wasn’t sure how he and Dan had let it get this bad. Especially Dan, who was all into minimalism and simplicity in living, though Phil still had some hoarding instincts. Maybe this wasn’t the best job for him, but he just felt compelled recently to do some cleaning out. 

 

Carefully, Phil reached in to pull out a wooden plank that didn’t look like a necessary component to holding this all together. The stacks wobbled but ultimately remained in their precarious places as the plank was pulled out. 

 

Until he saw it, Phil had almost forgotten all about it. The attached foil and paper had fallen off in places and the wood itself had been nicked and scratched. Still, it was the Dan vs Phil board from back when they had a gaming channel on YouTube.

 

As he was looking at the old table leaf, Phil heard footsteps behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Dan standing in a pressed trousers, a button up shirt and tie, all dressed for work. 

 

“Babe, do you think we need to keep this?” Phil asked. 

 

Dan yawned, running a hand through his hair, which made the bits of grey sparkle. “Keep what?”

 

“This.” Phil spun the Dan vs. Phil board toward his husband. 

 

“No,” Dan said with a shrug. “I don’t think so.”

 

Phil looked down at it. It had taken them years to construct, but it really was just wood and kitchen foil and paper. “You sure?”

 

“It’s up to you, but I don’t think we need it for anything.”

 

_ Wood and kitchen foil and paper,  _ Phil thought. Dan was right. 

 

“I’ll just take a picture of it. I read that in an article once.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket and snapped a picture. “You heading out?” Phil asked, looking up at Dan again.

 

“Yeah, I have a meeting. Want me to bring home dinner?”

 

“That’d be great,” Phil replied. 

 

“What do you wan—“

 

“Shit, sorry,” Phil interrupted. “I forgot I have to work late tonight.”

 

Dan nodded and Phil could feel the commiseration. They both had to work their fair share of late nights. But at least they both loved what they did, even if they didn’t work together anymore. 

 

“Remember when that was work?” Dan asked, pointing at the board. 

 

“Barely,” Phil said. He remembered it, much the way he remembered uni or senior prom. Though he was maybe a bit more nostalgic for it than those other things. Mostly because of the amount of time he got to spend with Dan… and the money. The money was nice. Not that they weren’t well off now, but still. 

 

“At least we’re off tomorrow,” Dan said, then reached out for the Dan vs Phil board. “Give that to me. I’ll put it in the outside bins at work.”

 

“Thanks,” Phil said, letting Dan take it. 

 

“No problem. Love you.” Dan leaned down to give Phil a kiss. 

 

Phil kissed him back, then smiled softly. “Love you too.”

 

Once Dan left, Phil returned his attention to the closet. He tugged out one of the boxes on the bottom and opened it up. He smiled. It was a box of trinkets from their honeymoon. Some shampoo they’d taken from the hotel. Receipts from a few of their meals. A t-shirt. A shot glass. A Polaroid they’d asked a stranger to take of them. A lacy pair of panties… Phil flushed and shut the box. He crammed it back into place. He was definitely keeping that.

 

. . .

 

Dan was driving the back streets to work to try to avoid traffic. It had worked too well and if he kept on, he’d be twenty minutes early and he still wasn’t one for coworker small talk. When he saw a sign for a moving sale, he pulled over. Their anniversary was coming up and Phil loved quirky presents.

 

He walked over to the sale and wandered down the rows. He picked through boxes of old books, a table of old lamps and trinkets. He considered one—an alien flipping the bird, but ultimately decided against it. 

 

He looked into the next box and let out a small laugh. The box was filled with their old merch—a coffee mug, a backpack, a calendar, the original plushies and a copy of tatinof. If Dan believed in such things, and he did not, it would feel like a sign or something after finding the Dan vs. Phil board. 

 

He pulled out the copy of tatinof and flipped through it. He wondered, briefly, if they’d ever been to one of their tours. Had he ever met this person? 

 

“Hi, how are you?” an older man with a grey mustache asked as he approached. 

 

“Just fine. Thanks,” Dan replied.

 

The man put his hand on the box. “My daughter left all that shit here when she went off to uni. I told her to come pick it up or it was going in the moving sale. Course she never came. I don’t even have any idea who those blokes are.”

 

“Yeah...me either,” Dan said, feeling as if it were true, for all it mattered. He sat the copy of tatinof back in the box and looked up at the man. “Have a good day.”

 

“You too, mate.”

 

Without a present for Phil, Dan drove away. When he got to the office, he pulled the Dan vs. Phil board out of the boot of his car and dropped it off in the outside bin before going inside. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
